5369 Times And Counting
by x-silverstorm-x
Summary: D'you know the feeling of anticipation? When you know you're going to get something you've wanted for so long? When I saw the Head Girl's badge in my hand, I felt like that. That's before I knew Potter was Head Boy. Merlin, did he turn my life crazy.


Chapter One

A Transfer from One Circus to Another

"Do it, mate."

"You do it yourself!"

"I can't! You do it!"

"Why should I do it? It's what you should do!"

"Because you owe me one from… that last mission."

I looked up from my toast and over to where the argument was coming from— a few seats away. Potter and Black. Of course. By the looks of it, Potter was trying to get Black to do something, but what I was not sure. Then Black relented.

"All right, but just this once, you hear?"

Potter smirked. Black stood up and headed over towards me. I paled. The mission suddenly became crystal clear. I quickly turned back to face the table and started buttering my toast with enthusiasm.

Black finally reached me and cleared his throat for my attention. I tried to ignore it the first time. He cleared it louder. I ignored it again. This time, his throat clearing was so loud I got a huge shock.

"What do you want, Black?" I said irritably.

"Finally the Ice Lady answers," crowed Black. Then he cleared his throat once more before beginning his speech. "Sirius Black is the noble knight serving the Great Lord James Potter. Sir Sirius Black will now, on the behalf of Lord James Potter, ask the Lady Lily Evans if she would like to go out with the Lord."

I prayed that no one was looking. But did I get my wish granted? No, I didn't. Everyone in the Great Hall had stopped eating, all but James Potter, who was making a valiant attempt to eat.

I finally found my voice. "Tell Potter that if he ever wants to go out with me, he should not embarrass me in front of the whole school."

And then someone started laughing— followed by everyone. When the usual babble broke out again, Sirius Black flashed me a wink and walked back to his seat. I banged my head repeatedly against the table. Then there was a tap on my shoulder. I whipped around.

"Hey, Evans, do you want to—"

"No! No, Potter, no! N-O, NO!"

"You don't even know what I'm going to say!"

"I do know!"

"Prove it."

"You were going to ask me out after that ridiculous attempt by Black!"

"Haha! Wrong! I was going to ask you if you want to have more butter on your toast!" And then he started laughing. By then Sirius had come over just in time to hear and understand the gist of the conversation, and also started laughing.

_What was so damn bloody funny_?

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. If I didn't know better I'd have thought he had made a dare with Black, a dare to irritate me for two years straight. But by now I knew it wasn't a dare. Nobody, not even Wonder Boy Potter, could keep a dare for two years straight. Potter must have just been born pure irritating.

Lucky for Potter and Black, I didn't know martial arts. If I did, they'd be resembling nothing more than corpses right now. If I was really lucky, they'd _be_ corpses right now.

After their laughing fest, to my utmost horror, they pushed away the two first years sitting next to me and sat in their place. Merlin, Potter couldn't plan to be _this_ irritating.

"Potter, for the one thousandth time this year— leave. Me. ALONE!" I roared at him. He stared at me in shock. I turned away and faced my best friend who was looking at me, trying not to laugh.

I gave her a glare, a signal for her not to do or say anything related to what that had been going on a few seconds ago. Her reply? To burst out laughing, spraying me with some chewed breakfast which was in her mouth. What a great and supportive friend.

"EW!" I shrieked. "Felicity… that's disgusting!"

"Sorry," my best friend managed to choke out, in between guffaws. More chewed food was sprayed. "Couldn't— help— it."

I pulled out my wand and pointed to my robes, saying, "_Scourgify_." The food vanished. "Do that one more time and I swear you'll be doing detention over the summer," I threatened as I kept my wand.

"Sheesh, Lily," Felicity said, laughing. "You can't take teasing."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my breakfast. Yes, that's me, Lily Evans. The girl with the non-supportive best friend (soon to be ex, the way she's acting these days), the girl who has been the main target of James Potter's famous "will you go out with me?" pranks, the girl who is also prefect, a Head Girl hopeful, and the girl who loves charms and potions. That's me. Lily.

As soon as I took a bite of toast, Potter was back at disturbing me again. For the third time in these five minutes.

"Evans."

I closed my eyes, counted to ten (that's what my father tells me to do when I get carried away by emotions), and then turned slowly to face my worst enemy. "Yes?" I asked as sweetly as I could. However, I am sorry to say, it did not come out sweet at all. It came out was a snap, or a snarl. The smile that I tried to put on failed too. I looked, instead, like I was sucking a lemon. A very, very, _very _sour lemon.

"No need to bare your teeth, Evans, even though they're actually quite nice to look at," said Potter.

How I wanted to scream.

"Anyway, I was about to ask you this," continued Potter, ignoring my pained expression. "Want to come over to my house for summer?"

I choked, which was pretty impossible, seeing that there was nothing in my mouth for me to choke on. But still, I choked, and that was that. "What?" I gasped.

"I asked if you wanted to come over to my house for summer," repeated Potter, taking a long draught of coffee from his goblet.

"Potter, if you think you can fool me with your cheap tricks…" I began indignantly.

"It's not a cheap trick, Evans," said Potter, pretending to look hurt. "Sirius will be there too."

I cast a glance at Sirius Black. He was what many girls called the "Sex God". No, he wasn't really a womanizer, neither did he go out with seven different girls a day. No, Sirius Black was just an immature little kid whose personality was hidden in the body of a sex god. Still, once in a while, he'd make some innuendos that make you think that he was one. I shudder whenever he does that. "Black?" I said skeptically, looking back at Potter. "You know, Potter, sensible girls wouldn't want to be in the same room as you and Black."

"Why not?" said Potter indignantly.

"Because in case you haven't noticed, Black has a lustful look about him, and you are girl crazy."

Black looked up when I mentioned him and grinned to show his thanks. I rolled my eyes. Potter, however, looked highly affronted. "Moi? Girl crazy? Not I! I've never been crazy for every girl—"

"But one," finished Black.

"Exactly," Potter beamed at his best mate.

I was sick and tired of their constant teasing. Why? Because I knew that there was no way Potter could ever be crazy for me. I was not ugly, but I wasn't the cream of the crop either. Sure, I'd been told my dark red hair was "lustrous", my almond emerald green eyes were "captivating", and my shell pink lips were "delectable". My skin was too pale, and I knew that a couple of freckles were slowly inching across my nose. Potter, on the other hand… his hair, though messy, suited him very well, his eyes could melt any heart (well, except Snape), and his frame was… well, nothing short of spectacular (not that I'd admit that to him… over my dead body!) Why would Potter even like me when there were girls like Hyacinth Lane around?

As if on cue, Hyacinth Lane, from the house of Hufflepuff, came walking down the isle towards Potter and Black, her blonde hair swinging, her body swaying with every step. Her proportions were really out of this world— I could swear they were 48-25-36, like Barbie's. It's a wonder she could even _walk_.

She promptly shoved herself in between Potter and Black, cooing, "How was your day, darling boys?"

Someone please tell her that their day was barely a quarter of an hour spent in the Great Hall.

"It's turned for the worst just a second ago," replied Potter.

I snorted and turned to finish my toast. Lane looked confused by Potter's remark. "Come again, honey?" she asked, stroking his already messy hair.

Merlin, how I wanted to puke.

Black didn't seem very happy with Lane's company, either. "What he means, darling," he said, imitating Lane's sugary sweet tone, "is that his day had just became a lot worse since you came. And would you mind getting your hair out of my goblet? The coffee's already unappetizing as it is."

Lane turned scarlet at Black's comment, and then turned to face Potter. "That's not true, Jamesey, is it?" she whined.

Potter kept a straight face and replied, "Oh, sorry, darling, but it is."

Lane stood up and stamped her foot. "Ok, that's it, I've had enough!" she screeched. "I'm going!" She stomped away, looking back to see if Potter and Black were following her, telling her to stay; but they weren't, so she just stomped louder and louder. Though, theoretically, her stomps should get softer and softer, seeing that she was walking away from us…

"And for the record, Lane," yelled Potter after her, "my name's James, not Jamesey, and it's 'Potter' to you!"

Sirius picked up his goblet, sniffed at the coffee and drank. Then he made a face. "Ew. House elves put too little sugar, as usual."

I groaned. Last day of sixth year, worst breakfast of the whole year. What luck.

The summer found me home at Number Eight Bailey Street, with my doting parents, the garden dying, and my sister Petunia, who I hardly saw head or tail of. Hardly surprising, actually, seeing that she had spent most of the summer (about a month had passed) going over the Vernon Dursley's house, presumably snogging.

"Freak!" someone called from outside my room, pounding my room door.

I stared at the door with narrowed eyes, caressing my wand lovingly with my tapered fingers. Ever since I had turned seventeen about a week ago, I was able to use magic. Still, I couldn't hex Petunia. Mum and Dad would be dreadfully dismayed.

"Freak!" the calling came again. I pointed to the door. _A__lohomora,_ I thought. The lock clicked, and the door opened. Perfect. Petunia could see me sitting comfortably in my chair, twiddling my wand— a perfect picture of composure. That ought to freak her out a little.

"My name's not 'freak'," I said quietly, authority in every syllable. Boy, do I love the experience of being in charge after my two years as a prefect.

"You're a freak as far as I know," said Petunia, attempting to put on a brave front. Alas, that effect was quite spoilt by her quivering, and her later statement: "Don't you point that _thing_ at me!"

"It's a wand," I told her. "Don't worry, I won't use it against you, though some people would. Like James Potter and his crew. Now what did you want to talk to me about, _Tuna_?"

"Don't call me that," she scowled.

"I shall cease doing that as soon as you stop calling me a freak. Now _what _do you want?" I asked.

"I need to borrow your sweater," she told me.

_Wait, first she calls me a "freak", then now she wants my sweater? Pigs can fly, girl. In other words, dream on._

"And give me a reason why I should lend you my sweater."

"Because it's lovely, and because you don't deserve to have it."

Score one for the first reason, second reason: strike out! "Sorry, Tuna darling," I said with honeyed sweetness Hyacinth Lane would have been proud of. "I'm dreadfully afraid I can't lend you my sweater."

"Why not?"

"Because your second reason, honey, is not valid." And then I was done with the stupid imitation. "If you ever want anyone to do you a favor, never insult them." And then, I gave my wand a flick to my cupboard door, and it slammed shut. Petunia must have thought it was some sort of ruse to distract her before I actually hexed her, for her face immediately went white— a sure sign that she feels threatened.

And what does a big sister do when she feels threatened by the younger sister? Why, go running to mummy, of course.

"Muuuuummmmm!" Petunia wailed, running off as fast as her skinny legs could carry her. "That freak's going to do _things_ to me!" I rolled my eyes and turned my wand onto my door. _Collorportus_, I thought, and the door, swinging shut, locked.

_Now what could I do for the remainder of the summer? _I wondered. I would go insane if I stayed locked up inside my house for the next two months. I'd die of boredom. Of course, I could actually Apparate to Hogsmeade, but being there alone wasn't the same as being there with friends. Talking about friends… I hadn't seen Felicity for such a long time. Maybe I could go to her house for a sleepover where she could invite the other girls from Gryffindor in our year too?

Hurriedly, I pulled out a bit of parchment, grabbed my favourite peacock feather quill and started writing a letter to Felicity, my non-supportive best friend with whom I had reconciled.

_Dear Felicity,_

_How're you this summer? I hope you are doing well, so that at least one of us is happy. _

_Petunia has been fine. At least, I find her fine because she isn't around most of the time. Been snogging that Dursley boy, I bet. But anyway, to the point of this letter._

_I've been cooped up in this house for a month! A __**month**__! If I have to stay in here another week, I'll have to go to Bedlam! Oh wait, you don't know what Bedlam is. Well, for your information, it's a hospital for the mentally retarded. I DON'T want to go there. So let me tell you what you can do to remedy my sorry plight._

_You could send me a formal invitation with Merlin as soon as you receive this letter. A letter to invite me to a grand and magnificent party. No—wait. Invite me to stay at your house for a week or two. Please? Pretty please?_

_Love from_

_Lily_

I quickly tied up the letter with a little silver ribbon, called for Merlin, my Great Grey Owl, to come, and sent him off with the letter.

It wasn't until five days later that I got her reply. And I am sad to say that by then, I had gone almost nuts. All thanks to Petunia, my darling sister.

On the day I sent the letter to Felicity, I went down for dinner and found Petunia missing. Then I found that she had actually gone to Dursley's house for dinner. Mum got a little shirty with me for not lending Petunia my sweater, but it was SO not my fault! I got sent up to bed without dessert and tried unsuccessfully to sleep. Then at about one o' clock when I was _ finally _dropping off, Miss _I-feel-threatened-by-my-sister's-wooden-stick_ came screaming into the house. I always knew that she was a lunatic.

"I'M ENGAGED! I'M ENGAGED!" she shrieked, switching on every fudging light in the house. I opened my eyes a tiny crack to have blinding light flooding into my eyes. Sighing, I got out of bed with my eyes opened just the smallest fraction, and went downstairs to the living room, and saw Petunia uncork a bottle of wine. "LILY!" she screeched, abandoning the bottle of wine on the table. "COME HERE!" And then she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a big bear hug, something that she hadn't don't since she was ten and I seven. And that was when I knew something really good had happened to her.

"What's the matter?" came mum's voice behind me. Both our parents were there, shielding their eyes from the light.

"Petunia here is on sugar high," I answered dryly.

"No I'm not," Petunia protested. "Mum, dad— I'm engaged!"

At the last two words mum lost all trace of sleepiness. So did dad and I, though it was more of shock for us. Mum's eyes were wide as oranges and she pulled Petunia into a huge hug. Dad did likewise. I was shocked beyond words. _Petunia— engaged? Boy, that Dursley boy was going to regret it._

"Of course," preened Petunia, while our parents listened to her adoringly, "with Vernon knowing me for so long, he knew every flaw of mine. But he also knew every great, godly thing about me, and that was what prompted him to propose to me."

"Oooh," I said, sarcastically. Luckily Petunia didn't catch it. "What divine qualities do you have?"

Petunia struck a pose that would have shamed a model. "My godly beauty."

I made a face when she wasn't looking. Correction— when I thought she wasn't looking. She was looking, actually.

"Lily…" mum muttered. "Be nice!" So I faced Petunia again, who was glaring daggers at me.

"You realize that the presence of freaks upset me," she said.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know that," I said very apologetically. "If I see one I shall inform you immediately."

That was the last straw for our darling Petunia. "Muuuuummm! Lily is so annoying!"

At which mum shushed her and glared at me. "Shall we all congratulate Petunia formally?" she suggested, and that put a smile on Petunia's face immediately.

"My heartiest congratulations, Pet, for the prospect of marrying such a promising young man," said mum, hugging Petunia.

"My congratulations, Petunia. I may not like that Dursley boy much, but he seems to have substance in his head."

_Yes,_ I thought. _Substance as in mould, fluff, flies._

And then it was my turn to congratulate my sister.

"My congratulations," I said, pumping her hand enthusiastically. "I'm really sure that your fiancé will do great things."

Thank Merlin Petunia didn't catch my sarcasm once again. However, mum did and she wasn't pleased. Dad, however, was hiding a smile behind his hand.

"To your room now, Lily," mum said. "It's very late."

So I went upstairs, dropped onto my bed and immediately fell asleep. You couldn't blame me. Hearing Petunia's "good" news and having to absorb it took up most of my energy.

And then for the rest of the week, I was forced to hear all sorts of wedding plans, what sort of dress Petunia would be wearing, and of course, what sort of dress I'd be wearing. I could've just worn any old shirt and jeans, but oh no, mum wouldn't tolerate that. She wanted me to wear a gown, saying that this would just make me a perfect little debutante.

So you could just imagine my wild joy when I received Felicity's reply, which in my opinion, took far too long.

_Dear Lily,_

_Sorry for the late reply. I think I know just the perfect thing to "_remedy you plight"_, as you put it. I'm going to have this one week sleepover as you suggested, and I'll invite everyone in Gryffindor to attend. Sounds great? You bet. I can hardly wait!_

_Love from _

_Felicity_

_P.S. Here's the formal invitation._

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Evans,_

_I'm Felicity Fawcett, Lily's best friend at school. I'm going hold a party and I am inviting everyone from Gryffindor (that's our house at school) to attend. I really hope that you'll let Lily attend, because a party just wouldn't be a party without her. Thanks._

_Warmest regards,_

_Felicity_

I tore off the postscript and rushed to mum and dad to let them read it. After agonizing minutes of contemplating, they finally allowed me to go. I quickly wrote a reply saying " i _Yes! Out of this house at last! I'll be there at tomorrow, two in the afternoon latest. /i "_ and sent Merlin off with it.

Then I quickly packed everything I deemed necessary before going down for dinner at the dining table, where Petunia was in full flow of wedding plans.

Just as I sat down to eat, dad asked, "Say, Lily, who else is your friend inviting?"

"She said in the letter," I replied patiently. "The whole of Gryffindor house, all the boys and all the girls in our year—"

i Shoot, I thought, realizing something. i Doesn't that would mean that James Potter and his mates were going as well. Perfect, just what I needed. A transfer from one circus to another. /i 

A/N: Constructive feedback is ALWAYS welcome!


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